I like a little poetry in my word of the year. Something I can put into metaphor and stick into the last line of a verse. I like layers of meaning so that when I need an anchor I can keep reaching through my word until I grab hold of a truth I need in that moment.
My word for 2025 is Space. In all of it’s beautiful definitions. The space between breaths, the physical spaces I inhabit, the holding space for others and myself, and of course the cosmic beauty and expansiveness of the universe — in all its adventure and unknowns.
The word came into my consciousness last week when I saw an Instagram reel from Morgan Harper Nichols — she has many words of the year that flash across the screen; you can screenshot one to be inspired or choose your word. I screenshotted seven to ten for inspiration until I hit this one and paused. Something resonated.
The idea of space to breathe, space to exist, and space to approach new beginnings spoke to something about my new chapter. New parent, six-month-old baby, adoption journey ended and now looking ahead at the unknown.
Space is for questing and wondering, for exploring unanswered questions about the universe and ourselves.
-Carl Sagan
When I reflect about how I want to spend 2025 with my daughter, the words that come to me are present, joy, love. And then when I thought about Space it landed — I want to hold space with her, make the space (and the time) to be present, to feel that love, to be in these fleeting and joyful moments together as she grows too fast.
I am also cognizant of the space I want to hold for myself. I want to be the kind of parent who models self-compassion and maintains their own personhood while being a present mother. I have a fear from what I’ve heard from other parents and what seems present in our culture that parenthood (and motherhood especially) can swallow your identity and lead to burnout and (god forbid) resentment. I heard somewhere that a happy mother is one of the best things you can give your child. “Happy” is fluid, of course, but in 2025 I want to continue to nurture my own soul so that I can nurture our family from a place of health and joy. For me that means:
The space to create . . .
The space to play . . .
The space to breathe . . .
What art offers is space – a certain breathing room for the spirit.
-John Updike
The space to be with my friends and family and hold space for them in return. One of the most important spheres of my life are my close relationships and those deserve attention and love this year.
Space doesn’t mean I suddenly have more time or energy, but there is something shifted in my capacity with the adoption being finalized. All the energy that process took for years has room to be redirected now — into Reese, of course, but I think also into new endeavors. I want space to explore what those endeavors might look like.
Writing, moving, reading, D&D — I am not so complicated of a tapestry. These are some foundational parts of my health and passions that I want to give attention to next year alongside my parenthood journey (and my career, which inevitably takes a lot of my daily attention).
The Universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.
-Neil deGrasse Tyson
Every year comes with it’s own share of hard knocks and incredible blessings, I’m sure 2025 will be no different. Every day feels like an adventure with Reese and sometimes adventures scare the shit out of you — I’m sure this will be a year of learning and growing no matter what. What I hope is that I find the space to both revel in the wild questing and breathe in the daily, quiet moments that string together a life.
With Love,
Natalie